Danni embarrassedly wiped the remnants of the vile viscous goop from her face as Trish and James passed behind her. She glanced up long enough to notice the girl standing alone at the entrance. She was reminded of the days before she ran into her two companions. She'd been miserable and scared, and alone. She was more sure she was going to die with each passing day and each new announcement blaring over the speakers. Were they really going to just leave her?
Danni snapped out of her musings only to find she had been left. Trish and James were nowhere to be seen. She took off in a frantic run towards the jungle.
((Danni continued in It Hurts))
Cause and Effect
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler nope. While this handler hasn't been around in quite a while, should they return and wish to take custody of this account and/or its posts, they are welcome to do so by contacting staff.
OOC: Writers block and a LOT to cover, so it's more of a summary in some parts, sorry (I apologise not for length, but because in some parts it seems more like a summary than a proper post). Mostly to get her active and give Arch something to work with.
IC:
Nicole had slipped quietly into the mess hall once the others had left, ignoring the smell of death she could pick up and the icky green substance on the floor. Closing the door behind her, she had placed her things down on one of the tables, she had tried desperately to wrap her mind around the announcement. How could so many people be dead? How could this be happening? She was one of the only Student Council members left, so many people she knew were dead, and people just wouldn't stop killing. It was crazy, how everyone had changed so drastically.
This is stupid, it's inhumane! How can we be doing this to each other?! What's wrong with us?
Other than trying to adjust to the sheer numbers of dead starting to pile up and the names of people she knew being on the list, along with a change out of her now-useless clothes once she found a private spot (switching out for some sweatpants, the same trainers and necklace, and a red short-sleeved shirt) and a very horrified reaction to finding the bodies of Evan Angler and Serenity Halos, the majority of the two days Nicole spent in the mess hall were entirely uneventful. There hadn't been much of anything to do, so she'd moved the bodies outside and mostly kept to herself, in the hope that nobody would find her. There weren't very many places to hide in the mess hall, but it was better than nothing.
Besides, at least I have shelter.
While said shelter was probably the reason people were likely to be drawn to her location, Nicole felt secure in that at least she wasn't as exposed to the elements any longer, and could actually get some measure of rest. The next announcement to come left her just as numb as the previous, but to her horror she could actually feel herself becoming desensitized. Was she getting used to it? Could such horror be "gotten used to"? What was happening to her?
Eventually, some hours after the announcement, she thought she heard someone at the door. Despite herself, she yelped in surprise, grabbing the pistol and ducking behind a table, the closest thing she could find that could hide her from whatever she'd heard. Her heart racing, she couldn't help but wonder who it was.
Please don't be playing...I don't want to fight, but I don't want to die...please don't find me...
IC:
Nicole had slipped quietly into the mess hall once the others had left, ignoring the smell of death she could pick up and the icky green substance on the floor. Closing the door behind her, she had placed her things down on one of the tables, she had tried desperately to wrap her mind around the announcement. How could so many people be dead? How could this be happening? She was one of the only Student Council members left, so many people she knew were dead, and people just wouldn't stop killing. It was crazy, how everyone had changed so drastically.
This is stupid, it's inhumane! How can we be doing this to each other?! What's wrong with us?
Other than trying to adjust to the sheer numbers of dead starting to pile up and the names of people she knew being on the list, along with a change out of her now-useless clothes once she found a private spot (switching out for some sweatpants, the same trainers and necklace, and a red short-sleeved shirt) and a very horrified reaction to finding the bodies of Evan Angler and Serenity Halos, the majority of the two days Nicole spent in the mess hall were entirely uneventful. There hadn't been much of anything to do, so she'd moved the bodies outside and mostly kept to herself, in the hope that nobody would find her. There weren't very many places to hide in the mess hall, but it was better than nothing.
Besides, at least I have shelter.
While said shelter was probably the reason people were likely to be drawn to her location, Nicole felt secure in that at least she wasn't as exposed to the elements any longer, and could actually get some measure of rest. The next announcement to come left her just as numb as the previous, but to her horror she could actually feel herself becoming desensitized. Was she getting used to it? Could such horror be "gotten used to"? What was happening to her?
Eventually, some hours after the announcement, she thought she heard someone at the door. Despite herself, she yelped in surprise, grabbing the pistol and ducking behind a table, the closest thing she could find that could hide her from whatever she'd heard. Her heart racing, she couldn't help but wonder who it was.
Please don't be playing...I don't want to fight, but I don't want to die...please don't find me...
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the former handler Slayer.
-
DetectiveArcher†
- Posts: 163
- Joined: Mon Sep 10, 2018 7:45 pm
((Continued from The Denial Twist))
The day wound on, the sun sliding from its place high in the sky, down to the horizon. The western sky looked like it was on fire. Eddie Sullivan had time to ruminate on the distressing thoughts that had plagued him since he'd been left broken and bloodied at the base of the lookout tower. His jaw still smarted from the unexpected blow. For being what looked to be 100 lbs, soaking wet, Laeil could throw a mean left hook. Or, it might be possbile, the familiar voice from the base of his skull mused, that you have a glass jaw. The latter was probably closer to the truth.
Sweat ran down the boy's face and made his clothes cling to his body. His hair had become matted and greasy and his clothes now comprised of approximately 90% of assorted grass, mud, and blood stains. He smelled disgusting and felt worse. He'd give anything to take a shower. He'd have already changed clothes, but he left them when he ran from Kimmy. Shortly after leaving Renee back at the tower, he'd realized he'd left his personal effects behind for the second time. He scoffed to himself. "Sullivan luck..." he muttered dryly, "all bad."
Wandering aimlessly through the jungle, he let his mind wander. He made sure to keep his eyes and ears open. He'd been too lax before and it was time to put his eavesdropping habits to good use. If he'd paid more attention, Jimmy wouldn't have died. If he'd been a little more supportive, maybe Lyn wouldn't have left him. If he'd been more confident, Kimmy might have stuck around. If he hadn't been such a coward, maybe Jodene would still be alive. So many "ifs."
That was supposed to be the hallmark of a hero, right? Self-doubt, remorse, a tragic backstory, a driving goal. Most of the protagonists from his books were like that. Eddie weighed the information thoughtfully. It didn't make him feel heroic. It made him feel sick to his stomach. His mother had always told him he read too much. Dad had always said it wasn't healthy to not have any friends. The list of names echoed in the boy's head. If friends were so eager to be at each other's throats, maybe being alone was better. He had to keep telling himself that.
It'd been a while since he'd thought about his family back home. Back in the normal, safe, sane world beyond the island. The combination of terror and heartwrenching loss had kept him more than busy enough without worrying about his familial relations. But, now he couldn't help but conjure images of his parents.
He thought about his mother and her warm, round face that always seemed to be smiling. She'd indulged his introversion and coddled him as a child. She tried to encourage him to connect with other people, but when he balked at the opportunity, she never pressed the matter. His father had been a hard man, but not without reason. He just wanted to make sure his son was raised properly. He'd prodded and scolded and reprimanded, but nothing ever seemed to steer Eddie closer to his classmates.
The elder Sullivan might have come off as abrasive, but Eddie didn't dislike the man. In fact, he understood his actions very well. He just wished he could've made him proud some way. Mediocre grades, poor sports aptitude, no talent for music, arts, or acting. The dark haired boy couldn't think of a single thing his father might have approved of. The thought depressed Eddie further, his shoulders sagging as he came to the decrepit building his map identified as the mess hall.
The door was already ajar, so Eddie gave it a tentative push before looking around inside. The smell of blood drifted to his nose. It didn't bother him as much as it once had. The shadows of the building were deep, the light of the setting sun barely holding its own against the dark gathering inside. He entered the building, his shoes sending plumes of dust from the ground.
"He-hello? Anyone here?" The words sank into the abyss, muted by the ages of dust and shadows. He crept further into the room.
The day wound on, the sun sliding from its place high in the sky, down to the horizon. The western sky looked like it was on fire. Eddie Sullivan had time to ruminate on the distressing thoughts that had plagued him since he'd been left broken and bloodied at the base of the lookout tower. His jaw still smarted from the unexpected blow. For being what looked to be 100 lbs, soaking wet, Laeil could throw a mean left hook. Or, it might be possbile, the familiar voice from the base of his skull mused, that you have a glass jaw. The latter was probably closer to the truth.
Sweat ran down the boy's face and made his clothes cling to his body. His hair had become matted and greasy and his clothes now comprised of approximately 90% of assorted grass, mud, and blood stains. He smelled disgusting and felt worse. He'd give anything to take a shower. He'd have already changed clothes, but he left them when he ran from Kimmy. Shortly after leaving Renee back at the tower, he'd realized he'd left his personal effects behind for the second time. He scoffed to himself. "Sullivan luck..." he muttered dryly, "all bad."
Wandering aimlessly through the jungle, he let his mind wander. He made sure to keep his eyes and ears open. He'd been too lax before and it was time to put his eavesdropping habits to good use. If he'd paid more attention, Jimmy wouldn't have died. If he'd been a little more supportive, maybe Lyn wouldn't have left him. If he'd been more confident, Kimmy might have stuck around. If he hadn't been such a coward, maybe Jodene would still be alive. So many "ifs."
That was supposed to be the hallmark of a hero, right? Self-doubt, remorse, a tragic backstory, a driving goal. Most of the protagonists from his books were like that. Eddie weighed the information thoughtfully. It didn't make him feel heroic. It made him feel sick to his stomach. His mother had always told him he read too much. Dad had always said it wasn't healthy to not have any friends. The list of names echoed in the boy's head. If friends were so eager to be at each other's throats, maybe being alone was better. He had to keep telling himself that.
It'd been a while since he'd thought about his family back home. Back in the normal, safe, sane world beyond the island. The combination of terror and heartwrenching loss had kept him more than busy enough without worrying about his familial relations. But, now he couldn't help but conjure images of his parents.
He thought about his mother and her warm, round face that always seemed to be smiling. She'd indulged his introversion and coddled him as a child. She tried to encourage him to connect with other people, but when he balked at the opportunity, she never pressed the matter. His father had been a hard man, but not without reason. He just wanted to make sure his son was raised properly. He'd prodded and scolded and reprimanded, but nothing ever seemed to steer Eddie closer to his classmates.
The elder Sullivan might have come off as abrasive, but Eddie didn't dislike the man. In fact, he understood his actions very well. He just wished he could've made him proud some way. Mediocre grades, poor sports aptitude, no talent for music, arts, or acting. The dark haired boy couldn't think of a single thing his father might have approved of. The thought depressed Eddie further, his shoulders sagging as he came to the decrepit building his map identified as the mess hall.
The door was already ajar, so Eddie gave it a tentative push before looking around inside. The smell of blood drifted to his nose. It didn't bother him as much as it once had. The shadows of the building were deep, the light of the setting sun barely holding its own against the dark gathering inside. He entered the building, his shoes sending plumes of dust from the ground.
"He-hello? Anyone here?" The words sank into the abyss, muted by the ages of dust and shadows. He crept further into the room.
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler DetectiveArcher.
When the door creaked open and she heard footsteps, Nicole tried to noiselessly tuck herself even further under the table. This didn't work, though, and she was stuck trying to stay where she was and draw as little attention to herself as possible, even her breath and heartbeat seeming way too loud for the intruder not to notice, the pistol shaking a little in her grip. It sounded like they were getting closer, but it didn't seem like they knew she was there. Not yet, anyway.
What should I do? Should I shoot them? Call out? Hope they don't see me?! Oh god, they're getting closer! They're going to find me! Someone help, please! Oh god...I don't wanna die here!
The voice that called out helped to quell her panic somewhat, but she was still careful in trying to decide how to respond, still unsure what to do. At this point, how could anyone honestly say they weren't playing? But that wasn't likely. After all, she knew Eddie Sullivan. Good ol' Edward Sullivan from period four Physics. He'd always been so quiet and withdrawn, she'd only spoken to him a few times the entire year, but he'd always been a nice enough guy, always polite to her and never really making any trouble. Sometimes he'd given off the impression that he just really wanted her to leave him alone, like just sitting there she was intruding on him, but he'd never been outright mean or nasty. If she had to describe him in a word it'd probably be "distant". She'd noticed him checking out Jodene every once in a while (Oh god, she's dead now...even so many days later it's still kinda hard to believe, she thought), but he'd always been sorta unassuming otherwise, never really wanting trouble from anybody as far as she knew.
That doesn't mean he isn't playing, Nikki. Come on, let's be real, would he have gotten this far if he wasn't? Think of how many people you thought would never go through with this who turned out to be playing. Darnell, Paul, Bobby, Steve, Eduardo, Madi, Wade...get the point yet?
However, there was something else in Eddie's tone. He didn't sound malicious, or like he was looking for a fight. No, his tone was almost curious, insecure. A little afraid even. It was a gamble, maybe she was being naive, but he didn't sound like he meant any harm. Maybe she could help him. Of course, just because he didn't sound harmful didn't mean he wasn't playing, but worse came to worse she did have the gun...
"Eddie? Eddie Sullivan? It's me, Nicole! I'm not playing, but I'm...I'm armed, got a gun, so d-d-don't try anything. I'm coming out now."
Turning a little and rising slowly and carefully from the table she used as cover, raising the gun a bit not as much to be threatening as to show she indeed did posess one, Nicole stood up and turned around to face Eddie. Needless to say, things didn't look as she expected, and she couldn't help gasping a little from surprise. The poor man looked like someone had beaten seven shades of shit out of him, there was dirt and blood all over him and he was covered in bruises. Her mind blocked out the fact that he held a rifle, mostly because it wasn't aimed at her, as she started to walk towards him.
"Oh god, are you okay?! You look like hell! Go on, sit down somewhere, I'll get something from my pack! What happened to you?! Did you run into a player?"
Quickly making her way to where she'd left her bag, she listened for whatever Eddie's response would be, pocketing the gun and rummaging through her pack for anything that she could use to help him.
What should I do? Should I shoot them? Call out? Hope they don't see me?! Oh god, they're getting closer! They're going to find me! Someone help, please! Oh god...I don't wanna die here!
The voice that called out helped to quell her panic somewhat, but she was still careful in trying to decide how to respond, still unsure what to do. At this point, how could anyone honestly say they weren't playing? But that wasn't likely. After all, she knew Eddie Sullivan. Good ol' Edward Sullivan from period four Physics. He'd always been so quiet and withdrawn, she'd only spoken to him a few times the entire year, but he'd always been a nice enough guy, always polite to her and never really making any trouble. Sometimes he'd given off the impression that he just really wanted her to leave him alone, like just sitting there she was intruding on him, but he'd never been outright mean or nasty. If she had to describe him in a word it'd probably be "distant". She'd noticed him checking out Jodene every once in a while (Oh god, she's dead now...even so many days later it's still kinda hard to believe, she thought), but he'd always been sorta unassuming otherwise, never really wanting trouble from anybody as far as she knew.
That doesn't mean he isn't playing, Nikki. Come on, let's be real, would he have gotten this far if he wasn't? Think of how many people you thought would never go through with this who turned out to be playing. Darnell, Paul, Bobby, Steve, Eduardo, Madi, Wade...get the point yet?
However, there was something else in Eddie's tone. He didn't sound malicious, or like he was looking for a fight. No, his tone was almost curious, insecure. A little afraid even. It was a gamble, maybe she was being naive, but he didn't sound like he meant any harm. Maybe she could help him. Of course, just because he didn't sound harmful didn't mean he wasn't playing, but worse came to worse she did have the gun...
"Eddie? Eddie Sullivan? It's me, Nicole! I'm not playing, but I'm...I'm armed, got a gun, so d-d-don't try anything. I'm coming out now."
Turning a little and rising slowly and carefully from the table she used as cover, raising the gun a bit not as much to be threatening as to show she indeed did posess one, Nicole stood up and turned around to face Eddie. Needless to say, things didn't look as she expected, and she couldn't help gasping a little from surprise. The poor man looked like someone had beaten seven shades of shit out of him, there was dirt and blood all over him and he was covered in bruises. Her mind blocked out the fact that he held a rifle, mostly because it wasn't aimed at her, as she started to walk towards him.
"Oh god, are you okay?! You look like hell! Go on, sit down somewhere, I'll get something from my pack! What happened to you?! Did you run into a player?"
Quickly making her way to where she'd left her bag, she listened for whatever Eddie's response would be, pocketing the gun and rummaging through her pack for anything that she could use to help him.
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the former handler Slayer.
-
DetectiveArcher†
- Posts: 163
- Joined: Mon Sep 10, 2018 7:45 pm
Eddie jumped when he heard the voice called out to him. His hands lost control of themselves, fumbling with the rifle, before allowing the hunk of metal and plastic to clatter to the floor. Eddie blinked several times, as the voice declared itself Nicole. Nicole? Nicole who? Why do I know that name? Eddie thought to himself. A figure rose from the table, drawing his attention.
Normally, the boy would have very little trouble matching a face to the name, but the sudden sounding of the girl's voice had caught him off-guard, terrifying the unlucky student beyond the capacity for rational thought. While the boy was busy gathering his fractured senses, Nicole Husher came into view. Eddie shifted his feet uncomfortably, quickly looking at the floor as he recognized the redhead. He knew Nicole.
Nicole was the type of girl that was better looking than the models most people fawned over, because she was the real deal. She was naturally gorgeous, seemingly beautiful without effort. She wasn't just a pretty face, though, regularly scoring near the top of their physics class. However, despite her obvious superiority, she wasn't arrogant or full of herself. She was down to earth and kind. She'd even tried to strike up conversation with him on several occasions, only succeeding in intimidating the boy beyond words.
He couldn't even look at her half of the time, for fear of his wandering eyes. He couldn't imagine why she'd bother with him. Nobody else did. Eddie might have held romantic feelings her, if she wasn't so much more than he was. Eddie knew a woman that was out of his league when he saw one. So the boy simply accepted her acquaintance with as much grace as he could muster, which wasn't a great deal. It helped that he'd already been infatuated with Jodene.
The dark haired boy opened his mouth to speak, but never managed to say anything. She'd already begun to close the distance between them when she balked. She commented on how terrible he looked before moving to her bag. She asked about what had happened to him. He gathered up the Remington before looking up. "Huh? Uh...a p-player?" he thought of Laeil. "Y-yeah. S-something like that." He took a seat, because she'd asked him to, and caught himself looking at her bottom as she rifled through her belongings. Biting down on the inside of his cheek in penance, he quickly dropped his eyes to his hands. "You really d-don't need to w-worry about me." He mumbled quietly, "It looks worse than it f-feels." It was a lie, but he didn't want Nicole to be upset.
"B-besides," he continued, "what if you g-get hurt? You sh-should save your sup-pplies for when you need them." Laeil's cold eyes and colder advice replayed in his head. He shuddered and put the memory out of mind. "Uhm, a-actually, are you ok? What am I saying, of c-course you're not ok. I mean, y-you aren't h-hurt at all, are you?"
Normally, the boy would have very little trouble matching a face to the name, but the sudden sounding of the girl's voice had caught him off-guard, terrifying the unlucky student beyond the capacity for rational thought. While the boy was busy gathering his fractured senses, Nicole Husher came into view. Eddie shifted his feet uncomfortably, quickly looking at the floor as he recognized the redhead. He knew Nicole.
Nicole was the type of girl that was better looking than the models most people fawned over, because she was the real deal. She was naturally gorgeous, seemingly beautiful without effort. She wasn't just a pretty face, though, regularly scoring near the top of their physics class. However, despite her obvious superiority, she wasn't arrogant or full of herself. She was down to earth and kind. She'd even tried to strike up conversation with him on several occasions, only succeeding in intimidating the boy beyond words.
He couldn't even look at her half of the time, for fear of his wandering eyes. He couldn't imagine why she'd bother with him. Nobody else did. Eddie might have held romantic feelings her, if she wasn't so much more than he was. Eddie knew a woman that was out of his league when he saw one. So the boy simply accepted her acquaintance with as much grace as he could muster, which wasn't a great deal. It helped that he'd already been infatuated with Jodene.
The dark haired boy opened his mouth to speak, but never managed to say anything. She'd already begun to close the distance between them when she balked. She commented on how terrible he looked before moving to her bag. She asked about what had happened to him. He gathered up the Remington before looking up. "Huh? Uh...a p-player?" he thought of Laeil. "Y-yeah. S-something like that." He took a seat, because she'd asked him to, and caught himself looking at her bottom as she rifled through her belongings. Biting down on the inside of his cheek in penance, he quickly dropped his eyes to his hands. "You really d-don't need to w-worry about me." He mumbled quietly, "It looks worse than it f-feels." It was a lie, but he didn't want Nicole to be upset.
"B-besides," he continued, "what if you g-get hurt? You sh-should save your sup-pplies for when you need them." Laeil's cold eyes and colder advice replayed in his head. He shuddered and put the memory out of mind. "Uhm, a-actually, are you ok? What am I saying, of c-course you're not ok. I mean, y-you aren't h-hurt at all, are you?"
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler DetectiveArcher.
He has a point. What if you get hurt, but can't treat yourself because you used all your supplies on him?
"What? Oh, no, I haven't been hurt," Nicole said, briefly taking her attention off of her search when Eddie stammered out his questions. "Worst I've had is a cold and a few cramps, I'm fine. You'll need this more than I do anyway, I can't leave you bleeding all over the place like that. Ah, here it is."
Danya hid the bloody thing under my spare clothes, not sure if he's a perv or just a jerk who thought that'd be funny.
Finally fishing the first aid kit out from her bag, she opened it up and turned to Ed, taking in the extent of his injuries. He was covered in bruises, most of which there wasn't a lot she could do about, along with other minor cuts and gashes on his eyebrow and lip. Unable to hide the concern from her face, she walked up to where he was sitting and knelt down in front of him. She'd done this before as the nurse's assistant, and read her parents' medical textbooks, so she had some idea of what to do.
"I need to check you for a concussion, okay, Eddie?" she asked. "I'm going to ask you some questions. I know they'll sound stupid, but you need to answer them, it'll help me figure out if you have a concussion, trust me. Okay, first, who's the current President of the United States?" she waited for his answer, nodding a bit before asking the next. "Alright, now what's your name?" waiting again, she continued. "And do you know where you are?" she waited a second again, before finally holding up three fingers. "Okay, last one; how many fingers am I holding up?"
Hm...seems like it could be a mild concussion. I'll have to check further though.
"One last thing," she said once he'd answered all her questions. "I need to check your pupil. Just stay still and I'll be able to look and be done with it."
Once getting some confirmation that he was ready, she leaned in closer to him and brought two fingers of one of her hands up to the lid of the eye that currently did not have a huge gash over it, propping open the eye and looking into the pupil for a few moments, close but not close enough to make him feel uncomfortable or like she was invading his personal space. Once she was satisfied she had a solid answer, and secretly glad that he hadn't taken the opportunity to cop a feel without being noticed, she let his eye go and stood back up, walking back to her first aid kit and looking through it.
"You've got a mild concussion, it seems, but shouldn't be too bad otherwise. Now I just have those cuts to worry about. Not a whole lot I can do about your bruises, but if I can find some ice in the freezer I could make a few ice packs. Alright, here's the disinfectant and gauze. Just hold your arms out, and I'll take care of those. The disinfectant's gonna sting a bit, but it won't be too bad. Those gashes on your lip and eyebrow will need stitches though. I'm sorry, but I can't give you a painkiller while you've got a concussion, it's...going to hurt like hell."
Setting the disinfectant, gauze, a pair of scissors to cut the gauze with, and thread and needle down next to Eddie, Nicole took the disinfectant and carefully applied it to the cuts on Eddie's arms and hands, bandaging each one tightly before moving to the cuts on his eyebrow and lip, disinfecting those before setting the disinfectant down and grabbing the thread and needle.
"Just stay still, it's going to be okay," she said, before starting to suture the gash on his eyebrow with a continuous stitch. She'd never done something like this before, and coupled with her hands shaking and Eddie's whimpering and squirming from the pain she had a tough time with it, but after a few minutes she was able to stitch it up, cutting the thread and bandaging up the wound with sterile gauze, which she also taped off. Stepping back and looking at the lip, she debated to herself what to do. She hadn't done the best of jobs on the other gash, and she could actually hurt him, while the bleeding itself would clot quickly enough that she wouldn't have to worry about him going into shock or anything.
I may as well try it...
Taking the needle, she gave the cut area a poke, but after Ed protested that it was too painful, she stopped, backing off and putting the items back in the kit, which was closed off and put back in the pack.
"I'm sorry, that's the first time I've ever done something like this. Are you alright?"
"What? Oh, no, I haven't been hurt," Nicole said, briefly taking her attention off of her search when Eddie stammered out his questions. "Worst I've had is a cold and a few cramps, I'm fine. You'll need this more than I do anyway, I can't leave you bleeding all over the place like that. Ah, here it is."
Danya hid the bloody thing under my spare clothes, not sure if he's a perv or just a jerk who thought that'd be funny.
Finally fishing the first aid kit out from her bag, she opened it up and turned to Ed, taking in the extent of his injuries. He was covered in bruises, most of which there wasn't a lot she could do about, along with other minor cuts and gashes on his eyebrow and lip. Unable to hide the concern from her face, she walked up to where he was sitting and knelt down in front of him. She'd done this before as the nurse's assistant, and read her parents' medical textbooks, so she had some idea of what to do.
"I need to check you for a concussion, okay, Eddie?" she asked. "I'm going to ask you some questions. I know they'll sound stupid, but you need to answer them, it'll help me figure out if you have a concussion, trust me. Okay, first, who's the current President of the United States?" she waited for his answer, nodding a bit before asking the next. "Alright, now what's your name?" waiting again, she continued. "And do you know where you are?" she waited a second again, before finally holding up three fingers. "Okay, last one; how many fingers am I holding up?"
Hm...seems like it could be a mild concussion. I'll have to check further though.
"One last thing," she said once he'd answered all her questions. "I need to check your pupil. Just stay still and I'll be able to look and be done with it."
Once getting some confirmation that he was ready, she leaned in closer to him and brought two fingers of one of her hands up to the lid of the eye that currently did not have a huge gash over it, propping open the eye and looking into the pupil for a few moments, close but not close enough to make him feel uncomfortable or like she was invading his personal space. Once she was satisfied she had a solid answer, and secretly glad that he hadn't taken the opportunity to cop a feel without being noticed, she let his eye go and stood back up, walking back to her first aid kit and looking through it.
"You've got a mild concussion, it seems, but shouldn't be too bad otherwise. Now I just have those cuts to worry about. Not a whole lot I can do about your bruises, but if I can find some ice in the freezer I could make a few ice packs. Alright, here's the disinfectant and gauze. Just hold your arms out, and I'll take care of those. The disinfectant's gonna sting a bit, but it won't be too bad. Those gashes on your lip and eyebrow will need stitches though. I'm sorry, but I can't give you a painkiller while you've got a concussion, it's...going to hurt like hell."
Setting the disinfectant, gauze, a pair of scissors to cut the gauze with, and thread and needle down next to Eddie, Nicole took the disinfectant and carefully applied it to the cuts on Eddie's arms and hands, bandaging each one tightly before moving to the cuts on his eyebrow and lip, disinfecting those before setting the disinfectant down and grabbing the thread and needle.
"Just stay still, it's going to be okay," she said, before starting to suture the gash on his eyebrow with a continuous stitch. She'd never done something like this before, and coupled with her hands shaking and Eddie's whimpering and squirming from the pain she had a tough time with it, but after a few minutes she was able to stitch it up, cutting the thread and bandaging up the wound with sterile gauze, which she also taped off. Stepping back and looking at the lip, she debated to herself what to do. She hadn't done the best of jobs on the other gash, and she could actually hurt him, while the bleeding itself would clot quickly enough that she wouldn't have to worry about him going into shock or anything.
I may as well try it...
Taking the needle, she gave the cut area a poke, but after Ed protested that it was too painful, she stopped, backing off and putting the items back in the kit, which was closed off and put back in the pack.
"I'm sorry, that's the first time I've ever done something like this. Are you alright?"
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the former handler Slayer.
-
DetectiveArcher†
- Posts: 163
- Joined: Mon Sep 10, 2018 7:45 pm
Eddie nodded at Nicole's profession of good health. "That's good," he murmured just loud enough to be heard, "I'm glad to see not everyone got dragged into this." He was still looking down at his hands. They were covered in scrapes and more than a little dried blood. They didn't look like they belonged to him.
Nicole knelt next to him, carefully examining his face. He had to force himself not to look away. It wasn't easy. She spoke again, bringing Eddie's attention back to the young woman's pretty face. "Huh? Oh, uhm, a c-concussion? How do you d-do that?" She asked a few questions, which he answered quickly. She held up a number of fingers. "Uhm...fou-three. Three." He cleared his throat and quickly averted his gaze again. How dumb do you have to be to screw up counting to three?
"One last thing."
Eddie turned back to her as she leaned forward, saying she needed to examine his eye. Gently holding his left eye open, she quietly inspected him while he tried not to be intimidated. The boy was aware, and grateful, for the girl's preservation of his personal space, but the whole situation still made him uncomfortable. She rose and returned to her first aid kit, explaining that he had a concussion and that what she was going to do to him would hurt a great deal. Sullivan luck...he thought bitterly to himself, all bad.
"It's no b-big d-deal," he said trying to sound braver than he felt, "I'll be ok-kay." He paused again as she stood before him. "Thanks for this, again." He said, holding out his arms, like she asked. The disinfectant stung, but wasn't especially painful. A few sparks of pain along his arms hand hands. Nothing too terrible. The stitches were different. He squirmed and whimpered, his toes curling and his hands clenching into fists, fire burning above his eye. To his credit, he didn't scream.
After a few minutes that seemed to last a few hours, the searing pain lessened as the girl finished her work. It still hurt and probably would for God knew how long, but at least he was patched up now. The girl took a step back and considered her work thoughtfully a moment. Eddie wasn't sure he wanted to know what she was thinking. She moved forward again, prodding the cut on his lip. This time he did cry out.
"Owowowowow. P-please d-don't. I'm grateful, r-really I am, but that's just t-too much." She apologized quickly. "Oh, no. It's not your fault. I'm f-fine. Really. Thank you, for this. You didn't have to, you know. B-but, I'm g-glad you did." He managed a lopsided smile.
Nicole knelt next to him, carefully examining his face. He had to force himself not to look away. It wasn't easy. She spoke again, bringing Eddie's attention back to the young woman's pretty face. "Huh? Oh, uhm, a c-concussion? How do you d-do that?" She asked a few questions, which he answered quickly. She held up a number of fingers. "Uhm...fou-three. Three." He cleared his throat and quickly averted his gaze again. How dumb do you have to be to screw up counting to three?
"One last thing."
Eddie turned back to her as she leaned forward, saying she needed to examine his eye. Gently holding his left eye open, she quietly inspected him while he tried not to be intimidated. The boy was aware, and grateful, for the girl's preservation of his personal space, but the whole situation still made him uncomfortable. She rose and returned to her first aid kit, explaining that he had a concussion and that what she was going to do to him would hurt a great deal. Sullivan luck...he thought bitterly to himself, all bad.
"It's no b-big d-deal," he said trying to sound braver than he felt, "I'll be ok-kay." He paused again as she stood before him. "Thanks for this, again." He said, holding out his arms, like she asked. The disinfectant stung, but wasn't especially painful. A few sparks of pain along his arms hand hands. Nothing too terrible. The stitches were different. He squirmed and whimpered, his toes curling and his hands clenching into fists, fire burning above his eye. To his credit, he didn't scream.
After a few minutes that seemed to last a few hours, the searing pain lessened as the girl finished her work. It still hurt and probably would for God knew how long, but at least he was patched up now. The girl took a step back and considered her work thoughtfully a moment. Eddie wasn't sure he wanted to know what she was thinking. She moved forward again, prodding the cut on his lip. This time he did cry out.
"Owowowowow. P-please d-don't. I'm grateful, r-really I am, but that's just t-too much." She apologized quickly. "Oh, no. It's not your fault. I'm f-fine. Really. Thank you, for this. You didn't have to, you know. B-but, I'm g-glad you did." He managed a lopsided smile.
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler DetectiveArcher.
OOC: Sorry for the wait, I...completely drew a blank on this one. Haha. Isn't much, since I was completely "Buh?" about ideas until a couple minutes ago.
Nicole returned Eddie's smile with one of her own, glad that at least she hadn't screwed up too badly. She'd been more embarassed at herself than she'd let on when she'd done as shoddy a job on his eyebrow as she had, coupled with putting him in as much pain as she had with the attempt on his lip. Maybe there was nothing forcing her to, but seeing someone that badly hurt, she had to act.
"Well, I couldn't just leave you there bleeding," she said. "We have to watch out for each other. If we forget that humanity, Danya's won, I think. I'm glad you're okay, though, I know I could've done a better job. Er, excuse me for a second."
After excusing herself, Nicole made her way to the door. She had noticed Eddie had left it open, and it'd been bothering her. Now that she actually had the opportunity, she made her way over, closing the door tight before moving back to the table across from where Eddie sat and placing herself down. She enjoyed being able to sit down, looking over Eddie's cuts and the like again just to be doubly sure she'd done everything up right. Nodding to herself in a satisfied manner, she made a note to look for some ice in the freezer before she left the building.
"Are you alright now, Eddie? What happened to you? Someone must've done this to you. I did all I could to help, but I can't help but wonder, y'know? Haven't seen many people up close so far, it helps knowing what's going on."
Nicole returned Eddie's smile with one of her own, glad that at least she hadn't screwed up too badly. She'd been more embarassed at herself than she'd let on when she'd done as shoddy a job on his eyebrow as she had, coupled with putting him in as much pain as she had with the attempt on his lip. Maybe there was nothing forcing her to, but seeing someone that badly hurt, she had to act.
"Well, I couldn't just leave you there bleeding," she said. "We have to watch out for each other. If we forget that humanity, Danya's won, I think. I'm glad you're okay, though, I know I could've done a better job. Er, excuse me for a second."
After excusing herself, Nicole made her way to the door. She had noticed Eddie had left it open, and it'd been bothering her. Now that she actually had the opportunity, she made her way over, closing the door tight before moving back to the table across from where Eddie sat and placing herself down. She enjoyed being able to sit down, looking over Eddie's cuts and the like again just to be doubly sure she'd done everything up right. Nodding to herself in a satisfied manner, she made a note to look for some ice in the freezer before she left the building.
"Are you alright now, Eddie? What happened to you? Someone must've done this to you. I did all I could to help, but I can't help but wonder, y'know? Haven't seen many people up close so far, it helps knowing what's going on."
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the former handler Slayer.
-
DetectiveArcher†
- Posts: 163
- Joined: Mon Sep 10, 2018 7:45 pm
Nicole gave her own nervous grin. It suited her. Eddie cleared his throat and hoped he wasn't blushing too noticeably. Checking on the young woman's work, the dark haired boy gingerly brushed against his newly stitched eyebrow. He winced and hissed quietly. "I guess touching it is bad, huh?" He chuckled nervously.
Nicole spoke and he listened. She went on about being humane in order to beat the game. Eddie nodded staring in rapt fascination. "Y-yeah!" he exclaimed, "Th-that's exactly how I feel! If you throw away your humanity, it's the same as being d-dead! Oh, my God, you have no idea how g-good it is to meet someone who f-feels the same way I do." He paused a moment, rubbing the back of his head shyly. "Or, maybe you do. Huh?" She asked to be excused. "Oh, yeah, right. Do whatever you need to."
Eddie wondered if he'd said something wrong. He fidgeted anxiously in his seat, hoping he hadn't done anything to upset her. He seemed to have a talent for upsetting people. Maybe it would be better if he just kept quiet. He didn't want to upset a nice person like Nicole. He heard the door click and jumped, his hands clutching at his rifle. He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw that the pretty redhead had just closed the door.
She pulled up a seat across the table from Eddie, looking at him intently before nodding to herself. He quickly looked away, trying to look normal. Never let them see you sweat, after all. Her quiet voice, tinted with her charming British accent, caught his attention once more. "Uh...y-y-yeah. I'm f-fine." He averted his gaze once more, this time because he couldn't lie as he looked her in the eyes.
"Wha-what h-happened? Well, that's...it's k-kind of a long st-story." He ran a hand through his hair, breathing deeply. "I, uh...I've been in a c-couple of fights. Been shot at, p-punched, thrown. You wouldn't believe how many p-people are so willing to k-k-kill each other, rather than work t-together." Kimmy, Wade, Laeil and Jimmy appeared in his thoughts. "B-b-but there are other st-still some out there that are l-like us. At least... there were." He swallowed hard. A series of clicks, punctuated by a gunshot, played on repeat in his ears. "I...I c-couldn't help them, though."
He clenched his fists and teeth. He wasn't going to cry again, damn it. "You helped me, b-b-but I c-couldn't help anyone." He forced his breathing to slow and covered his eyes with his hand. Sniffing loudly, he tried to compose himself. "I let them die. I let them die...." He let his hand fall to into his lap. His dark, tired eyes fixed on Nicole's. "P-please. Nicole, t-tell me. T-tell me I'm not a b-bad person," he begged quietly. He needed to hear her say it. Nicole was ten times the person he was. If he got her approval, he thought he might be able to forgive himself. "T-tell me it's not my fault."
Nicole spoke and he listened. She went on about being humane in order to beat the game. Eddie nodded staring in rapt fascination. "Y-yeah!" he exclaimed, "Th-that's exactly how I feel! If you throw away your humanity, it's the same as being d-dead! Oh, my God, you have no idea how g-good it is to meet someone who f-feels the same way I do." He paused a moment, rubbing the back of his head shyly. "Or, maybe you do. Huh?" She asked to be excused. "Oh, yeah, right. Do whatever you need to."
Eddie wondered if he'd said something wrong. He fidgeted anxiously in his seat, hoping he hadn't done anything to upset her. He seemed to have a talent for upsetting people. Maybe it would be better if he just kept quiet. He didn't want to upset a nice person like Nicole. He heard the door click and jumped, his hands clutching at his rifle. He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw that the pretty redhead had just closed the door.
She pulled up a seat across the table from Eddie, looking at him intently before nodding to herself. He quickly looked away, trying to look normal. Never let them see you sweat, after all. Her quiet voice, tinted with her charming British accent, caught his attention once more. "Uh...y-y-yeah. I'm f-fine." He averted his gaze once more, this time because he couldn't lie as he looked her in the eyes.
"Wha-what h-happened? Well, that's...it's k-kind of a long st-story." He ran a hand through his hair, breathing deeply. "I, uh...I've been in a c-couple of fights. Been shot at, p-punched, thrown. You wouldn't believe how many p-people are so willing to k-k-kill each other, rather than work t-together." Kimmy, Wade, Laeil and Jimmy appeared in his thoughts. "B-b-but there are other st-still some out there that are l-like us. At least... there were." He swallowed hard. A series of clicks, punctuated by a gunshot, played on repeat in his ears. "I...I c-couldn't help them, though."
He clenched his fists and teeth. He wasn't going to cry again, damn it. "You helped me, b-b-but I c-couldn't help anyone." He forced his breathing to slow and covered his eyes with his hand. Sniffing loudly, he tried to compose himself. "I let them die. I let them die...." He let his hand fall to into his lap. His dark, tired eyes fixed on Nicole's. "P-please. Nicole, t-tell me. T-tell me I'm not a b-bad person," he begged quietly. He needed to hear her say it. Nicole was ten times the person he was. If he got her approval, he thought he might be able to forgive himself. "T-tell me it's not my fault."
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler DetectiveArcher.
Nicole was silent for a moment after Eddie finished talking, trying to take in everything he'd said and think up a reply. To be honest, before the game Nicole never would've imagined someone like Eddie getting in a fight, he'd never as much as raised his voice at any time she could remember. Even here his voice was barely above a mumble, just enough that she could really make out what he was saying. At the same time, it was unsettling what he said, even though she knew it full well. How could so many people be playing? Even after ten days she didn't get it, maybe she never would. There was no way he could be a threat to anyone from what she knew of him, so not only were people fighting to keep themselves alive, they were actively attacking anybody they ran into.
For some reason, I just can't accept that. I know we're better than this...
He went on to say how he hadn't been able to help anybody, refusing to look her in the eye as he repeatedly claimed he let "them" die, before looking at her again and asking her to tell him he wasn't a bad person. That was what had caused her to go quiet. It really wasn't something she could do, she figured, make someone believe that they were or were not a good person, and to have someone base their own opinion of themselves on her input caught her off guard for a second. It served as an unsettling reminder, as well. Just how many people had she seen be cut down or slaughtered, completely unable to do anything or just too afraid to try?
"Eddie," she said after a few seconds, once she thought she'd found the right words. "You really have to decide that for yourself. I'm not a judge or anything, I can't determine that for you. If you want my input though, no, I can't say you're a bad person. A bad person would've shot at me the second I spoke up, but you didn't. It's been what, ten days? Ten days of this game, with people trying to kill you, and neither of us have given in? You can't be a bad person if you're able to stick to that kind of choice even when everyone around you is dying..." she trailed off for a second, her voice getting a bit shaky, but she recomposed herself quickly. "You weren't able to help someone, that doesn't make you a bad person. I mean, the goal of this...this 'game' is for us to kill each other until only one is left. If all of us followed Danya's rules we would've shot each other by now."
Nicole shrugged. "There's...there's not really any other way to say it. I...I don't know how many people I've seen die. You're the f-first person I've ever actually managed to help, everyone else was either dead when I saw them or I couldn't get to them before they were killed. If it's not my fault that they died, it isn't yours either." She paused again, having difficulty forcing out her words now. "People fail...it doesn't make them evil, it doesn't mean it's their fault. it's just something that happens. You haven't stepped down to the level of the other killers or anything, I...I think that means you're good at heart, myself. It's just my opinion, though. That's all I can say, you have to come to your own conclusion about that, I can't and won't make somebody's mind up for them, even if I do try to help them."
Actually...that's one of the first times in this whole conversation he's looked me in the eye.
"Now that I think about it, though," Nicole spoke up yet again after giving Eddie a chance to either reply or think about what he said, eager to change the subject. "You've made eye contact, or at least looked at me, here in this building almost more often than any other time we've spoken to each other. It's always kind of bugged me, you always seemed afraid to look at me, why is that? I mean...back in school, I would've thought it rude to bring it up, but it seems like a good time. Be honest with me, Eddie, I deserve that much, don't you think?"
For some reason, I just can't accept that. I know we're better than this...
He went on to say how he hadn't been able to help anybody, refusing to look her in the eye as he repeatedly claimed he let "them" die, before looking at her again and asking her to tell him he wasn't a bad person. That was what had caused her to go quiet. It really wasn't something she could do, she figured, make someone believe that they were or were not a good person, and to have someone base their own opinion of themselves on her input caught her off guard for a second. It served as an unsettling reminder, as well. Just how many people had she seen be cut down or slaughtered, completely unable to do anything or just too afraid to try?
"Eddie," she said after a few seconds, once she thought she'd found the right words. "You really have to decide that for yourself. I'm not a judge or anything, I can't determine that for you. If you want my input though, no, I can't say you're a bad person. A bad person would've shot at me the second I spoke up, but you didn't. It's been what, ten days? Ten days of this game, with people trying to kill you, and neither of us have given in? You can't be a bad person if you're able to stick to that kind of choice even when everyone around you is dying..." she trailed off for a second, her voice getting a bit shaky, but she recomposed herself quickly. "You weren't able to help someone, that doesn't make you a bad person. I mean, the goal of this...this 'game' is for us to kill each other until only one is left. If all of us followed Danya's rules we would've shot each other by now."
Nicole shrugged. "There's...there's not really any other way to say it. I...I don't know how many people I've seen die. You're the f-first person I've ever actually managed to help, everyone else was either dead when I saw them or I couldn't get to them before they were killed. If it's not my fault that they died, it isn't yours either." She paused again, having difficulty forcing out her words now. "People fail...it doesn't make them evil, it doesn't mean it's their fault. it's just something that happens. You haven't stepped down to the level of the other killers or anything, I...I think that means you're good at heart, myself. It's just my opinion, though. That's all I can say, you have to come to your own conclusion about that, I can't and won't make somebody's mind up for them, even if I do try to help them."
Actually...that's one of the first times in this whole conversation he's looked me in the eye.
"Now that I think about it, though," Nicole spoke up yet again after giving Eddie a chance to either reply or think about what he said, eager to change the subject. "You've made eye contact, or at least looked at me, here in this building almost more often than any other time we've spoken to each other. It's always kind of bugged me, you always seemed afraid to look at me, why is that? I mean...back in school, I would've thought it rude to bring it up, but it seems like a good time. Be honest with me, Eddie, I deserve that much, don't you think?"
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the former handler Slayer.
-
DetectiveArcher†
- Posts: 163
- Joined: Mon Sep 10, 2018 7:45 pm
He didn't move. He was afraid to breathe. It was like sitting in the judgment of God. Eddie wanted so desperately for the girl opposite him to absolve him of his sins. He leaned anxiously forward, praying for her to give him peace of mind. Eddie sat and listened, letting the words wash over him. When Nicole admitted her inability to give him an answer, he thought he might break. That wasn't what he'd wanted to hear. His gaze began to drop before he heard her continue.
He looked up as she presented the truth as she saw it. There was no fault to be had. She didn't quite give him the vindication he'd expected, but there was something else in the pretty redhead's words. She presented him with the means of shedding his guilt. "People," she explained, "fail...it doesn't make them evil, it doesn't mean it's their fault. It's just something that happens." They weren't quite the words he'd expected, but they might have been what he'd needed. It helped when she explained she'd been through much of the same situation. If she'd been through as much as he had and was still such a good person, maybe he would be ok.
Sniffling, he brushed away the few stray tears that welled in the corners of his eyes, threatening to flow down his cheeks. He nodded, trying to compose himself. She was right, though. It wasn't really her decision to say whether he'd done right or not. It might hurt, but it was true. If he wanted peace of mind, he'd need to find the grace to forgive himself. "Y-yeah," he managed, "you're r-right. Th-thanks." He gave her another of his lopsided grins, glad to receive such sage advice.
They shared a companionable silence for a few moments longer before she spoke again. Why was he afraid to look at her? His gaze dropped to his nervously fidgeting hands again. "A-afr-fraid?" he echoed quickly, his voice nearly cracking. "Uhm, I d-don't...I mean, I n-never th-thought-" he stopped dead at her last words. He swore inwardly. She was right, of course. She did deserve to have an answer. She'd given him more than he had any right to expect; he could at least try to give her an explanation.
He cleared his throat, already feeling the heat rise in his cheeks. "Ah, w-well, the-the-the t-truth? The truth is...it's j-just that...you int-timid-dated me." He spared a quick glance at her reaction. "I mean...you're smart, nice, witty...b-b-beau...you're very pretty." He quickly turned his atttention elsewhere, again. "I d-didn't get why you'd w-want to talk to someone...w-well, like me. You have to admit," he said, pointing out the obvious, "we're don't r-really have all that much in c-common."
He paused for a long moment. "And...I was af-fraid that if I said or did something st-stupid, you wouldn't...you wouldn't want to t-talk to me anymore." The dark haired boy's voice sank into a whisper as he explained himself. That was the truth. He might not have loved her like he loved Jodene, but Eddie had no desire to estrange the kind girl who'd gone out of her way to try and be nice to him. He let the words hang in the air, hoping he hadn't said anything wrong.
He looked up as she presented the truth as she saw it. There was no fault to be had. She didn't quite give him the vindication he'd expected, but there was something else in the pretty redhead's words. She presented him with the means of shedding his guilt. "People," she explained, "fail...it doesn't make them evil, it doesn't mean it's their fault. It's just something that happens." They weren't quite the words he'd expected, but they might have been what he'd needed. It helped when she explained she'd been through much of the same situation. If she'd been through as much as he had and was still such a good person, maybe he would be ok.
Sniffling, he brushed away the few stray tears that welled in the corners of his eyes, threatening to flow down his cheeks. He nodded, trying to compose himself. She was right, though. It wasn't really her decision to say whether he'd done right or not. It might hurt, but it was true. If he wanted peace of mind, he'd need to find the grace to forgive himself. "Y-yeah," he managed, "you're r-right. Th-thanks." He gave her another of his lopsided grins, glad to receive such sage advice.
They shared a companionable silence for a few moments longer before she spoke again. Why was he afraid to look at her? His gaze dropped to his nervously fidgeting hands again. "A-afr-fraid?" he echoed quickly, his voice nearly cracking. "Uhm, I d-don't...I mean, I n-never th-thought-" he stopped dead at her last words. He swore inwardly. She was right, of course. She did deserve to have an answer. She'd given him more than he had any right to expect; he could at least try to give her an explanation.
He cleared his throat, already feeling the heat rise in his cheeks. "Ah, w-well, the-the-the t-truth? The truth is...it's j-just that...you int-timid-dated me." He spared a quick glance at her reaction. "I mean...you're smart, nice, witty...b-b-beau...you're very pretty." He quickly turned his atttention elsewhere, again. "I d-didn't get why you'd w-want to talk to someone...w-well, like me. You have to admit," he said, pointing out the obvious, "we're don't r-really have all that much in c-common."
He paused for a long moment. "And...I was af-fraid that if I said or did something st-stupid, you wouldn't...you wouldn't want to t-talk to me anymore." The dark haired boy's voice sank into a whisper as he explained himself. That was the truth. He might not have loved her like he loved Jodene, but Eddie had no desire to estrange the kind girl who'd gone out of her way to try and be nice to him. He let the words hang in the air, hoping he hadn't said anything wrong.
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler DetectiveArcher.
((Wade Wilson continued from Grosse))
Things weren't going so well for Wade Wilson.
The line between reality and fantasy had all but disappeared, and for the last few days, the boy had been chasing what he knew could very well be a phantom through the trees. His mind struggled to comprehend what he was doing. On one hand, it made perfect sense. Danya had enlisted the help of Satan and his minions, and he'd been fighting for his life against skeletons, succubi, and the like. He was chasing the murderous MSN Messenger man, as he'd been the one behind the murders, and had been the one responsible for killing so many. And yet...
...something in his mind screamed at him that this was wrong, that he was out of control, that he needed to stop...
...but stop WHAT? Wade had to fight for his life, and he had to make sure that he lived for as long as he possibly could. If there were things that had been summoned to ensure that Wade and the rest of his peers died, then damned if he would sit back and let it happen. As he ran in pursuit of the little green man, he thought back on his experiences. Much to his dismay, a lot of it seemed to be a fuzzy blur in his memory. There was much that he couldn't remember, and yet it all seemed so close at hand, if only he could just...
THERE!
Wade was jerked out of his own thoughts by a cracking in the bushes ahead of him. Raising his pistol with hesitancy, he peered around the tree and saw that the small green man of whom he'd been pursuing had stopped, and had its back turned to him, presumably relieving itself. Carefully, and quietly, Wade stepped around the tree, and aimed his pistol. As he took aim, Wade knew that these next moments would be tremendously important, because he could manage to save them all. All he needed to do was get one good shot...
BANG!!
Instead of one shot, Wade took three, all of which connected with his target. The small green man doubled over, taking one bullet in the back of its head, and two in the spine. Falling forward, the blood sprayed all amongst the area, and then the small figure stayed quiet and did not move. Cautiously, he hurried over to the small corpse, and aimed his pistol at it. Nudging it with his foot, he saw that it didn't move.
The MSN Messenger man was dead. Wade Wilson had won.
Smiling, he sighed heavily, and looked up at the sky. He felt as though a weight had been lifted from his shoulders, and as cliched as it sounded, he felt as though he were finally going to recieve absolute clarity. Closing his eyes, he smiled, and then-
No!
Absolute clarity certainly didn't feel anything like he'd assumed that it would. Suddenly aware, and perfectly so, of all of his actions, the memories rushed back to him as though he'd unblocked a dam of memory, each tumbling through after the other. With a look of horror, Wade held up his hands, fingernails stained with blood, the pistol having the same coppery stains to it. As his mind processed the new information, his hands began to shake, so much so that he dropped the pistol, and began to hyperventilate.
"Wh-what have I DONE!?"
Basically tossing the pistol in front of him, Wade looked at his own hands with an expression of disgust and horror. His moment of clarity; the return of his own sanity had come with a price. He was now aware - perfectly so, of everything which had happened, and the true knowledge destroyed him inside.
I...I've killed...I've done exactly what I've been trying to avoid...
Staggering backwards, Wade dropped his pack, staggered back a few more steps, and collapsed against a tree, looking at his hands all the while. Of all the thoughts that were going through his mind, all of the people...from Mary McKay, to Jodene Zalack, to Joseph Gai...all of them had died at his own hands, and he hadn't even realized what he was doing...Wade knew that he could probably attribute some of it to his own mental illness, but even still...how on Earth could he possibly live with the knowledge of what he'd done?
Wade Wilson fancied himself as someone who enjoyed creating pieces of art. He was a photographer, enjoyed painting now and then, and had a generally creative personality. Ironic, then, it was that the creative personality was responsible for such maddening destruction. With little else to do, Wade buried his face in his hands and began to sob. The destruction had been at such a massive scale that Wade felt such a giant hatred. The hatred though, it wasn't towards Danya...
...but rather, towards himself.
Things weren't going so well for Wade Wilson.
The line between reality and fantasy had all but disappeared, and for the last few days, the boy had been chasing what he knew could very well be a phantom through the trees. His mind struggled to comprehend what he was doing. On one hand, it made perfect sense. Danya had enlisted the help of Satan and his minions, and he'd been fighting for his life against skeletons, succubi, and the like. He was chasing the murderous MSN Messenger man, as he'd been the one behind the murders, and had been the one responsible for killing so many. And yet...
...something in his mind screamed at him that this was wrong, that he was out of control, that he needed to stop...
...but stop WHAT? Wade had to fight for his life, and he had to make sure that he lived for as long as he possibly could. If there were things that had been summoned to ensure that Wade and the rest of his peers died, then damned if he would sit back and let it happen. As he ran in pursuit of the little green man, he thought back on his experiences. Much to his dismay, a lot of it seemed to be a fuzzy blur in his memory. There was much that he couldn't remember, and yet it all seemed so close at hand, if only he could just...
THERE!
Wade was jerked out of his own thoughts by a cracking in the bushes ahead of him. Raising his pistol with hesitancy, he peered around the tree and saw that the small green man of whom he'd been pursuing had stopped, and had its back turned to him, presumably relieving itself. Carefully, and quietly, Wade stepped around the tree, and aimed his pistol. As he took aim, Wade knew that these next moments would be tremendously important, because he could manage to save them all. All he needed to do was get one good shot...
BANG!!
Instead of one shot, Wade took three, all of which connected with his target. The small green man doubled over, taking one bullet in the back of its head, and two in the spine. Falling forward, the blood sprayed all amongst the area, and then the small figure stayed quiet and did not move. Cautiously, he hurried over to the small corpse, and aimed his pistol at it. Nudging it with his foot, he saw that it didn't move.
The MSN Messenger man was dead. Wade Wilson had won.
Smiling, he sighed heavily, and looked up at the sky. He felt as though a weight had been lifted from his shoulders, and as cliched as it sounded, he felt as though he were finally going to recieve absolute clarity. Closing his eyes, he smiled, and then-
No!
Absolute clarity certainly didn't feel anything like he'd assumed that it would. Suddenly aware, and perfectly so, of all of his actions, the memories rushed back to him as though he'd unblocked a dam of memory, each tumbling through after the other. With a look of horror, Wade held up his hands, fingernails stained with blood, the pistol having the same coppery stains to it. As his mind processed the new information, his hands began to shake, so much so that he dropped the pistol, and began to hyperventilate.
"Wh-what have I DONE!?"
Basically tossing the pistol in front of him, Wade looked at his own hands with an expression of disgust and horror. His moment of clarity; the return of his own sanity had come with a price. He was now aware - perfectly so, of everything which had happened, and the true knowledge destroyed him inside.
I...I've killed...I've done exactly what I've been trying to avoid...
Staggering backwards, Wade dropped his pack, staggered back a few more steps, and collapsed against a tree, looking at his hands all the while. Of all the thoughts that were going through his mind, all of the people...from Mary McKay, to Jodene Zalack, to Joseph Gai...all of them had died at his own hands, and he hadn't even realized what he was doing...Wade knew that he could probably attribute some of it to his own mental illness, but even still...how on Earth could he possibly live with the knowledge of what he'd done?
Wade Wilson fancied himself as someone who enjoyed creating pieces of art. He was a photographer, enjoyed painting now and then, and had a generally creative personality. Ironic, then, it was that the creative personality was responsible for such maddening destruction. With little else to do, Wade buried his face in his hands and began to sob. The destruction had been at such a massive scale that Wade felt such a giant hatred. The hatred though, it wasn't towards Danya...
...but rather, towards himself.
-
DetectiveArcher†
- Posts: 163
- Joined: Mon Sep 10, 2018 7:45 pm
((Hopping the post order and any GMing approved by Kyle))
The floor was good. It was dusty, of course, but the grey tiles were still intact and, for the most part, even. A few of the tiles had cracked and come loose from their moorings but, on the whole, the floor was in remarkably good shape. Eddie pondered the state of the mess hall floor, avoiding eye contact with Nicole for the umpteenth time. No use wondering about it, Edward simply knew that he'd said a bit too much. If his face had been warm before, it was burning, now.
The silence stretched between them, the simple, companionable atmosphere all but gone, blasted from the air by the awkward boy's words. His fingers worked restlessly, picking at the beds of his nails. A bad habit, but it helped to calm him down. Finally, Eddie forced his eyes back towards the young woman across from him. She was blinking a lot, apparently caught off guard by his candor.
He waited a moment, waiting for her to say anything. The nervous boy opened his mouth to respond, but was interrupted by the sharp pop of gunfire. Diving to the ground, Eddie counted three shots as he gripped his rifle. Snapping his head to Nicole, he crawled the short distance to come to rest at her side. "Are you ok-kay?" She gave a brief nod and murmured to the affirmative.
Reaching out, the terrified student reached out to place a hand on his companion's shoulder. He stopped, his hand hovering a moment, before pressing the offending extremity to the ground and forcing himself to his feet. "St-stay here. I'll go s-see what's happening. If I d-don't c-come b-back.... Run. Run and hide."
Not waiting for a reply, Eddie crept towards the door, knuckles showing white from his grip on the Remington. Back against the wall, the dark haired boy slowly pried the door open, peeking through small opening. No good. The sun hadn't even risen yet, as if asking for a few minutes more, before rousing itself from its sleep. Fine, then.
Opening the portal the rest of the way, the young boy cast one last glance at Nicole before quietly closing the door behind him. He hoped she would do the sensible thing and find a back door, hop out a window, disappear into the jungle. Eddie pressed the thought to the back of his mind and brought the rifle to his shoulder, picking out the sound of soft sobs from behind a cluster of foliage. The darkness was lessening, the edges of the sun drifting up from the horizon, making it easier for the boy to find the source of the noise.
The muzzle of the gun fell as Eddie found the huddled mass of a young man, weeping in the early morning jungle. "H-hey...are you ok?" He took a step closer, letting his grip on the rifle loosen. "It's ok-kay. I'm n-not gonna hurt you..." The boy's quiet, nervous voice trailed off as he squinted at the sobbing student. Blood froze, fingers locked, teeth clenched. "It's you...it's you. It's YOU!"
Hands sliding down the barrel of the rifle, Edward Sullivan held the Remington like a club, swinging the stock for Wade Wilson's head.
The floor was good. It was dusty, of course, but the grey tiles were still intact and, for the most part, even. A few of the tiles had cracked and come loose from their moorings but, on the whole, the floor was in remarkably good shape. Eddie pondered the state of the mess hall floor, avoiding eye contact with Nicole for the umpteenth time. No use wondering about it, Edward simply knew that he'd said a bit too much. If his face had been warm before, it was burning, now.
The silence stretched between them, the simple, companionable atmosphere all but gone, blasted from the air by the awkward boy's words. His fingers worked restlessly, picking at the beds of his nails. A bad habit, but it helped to calm him down. Finally, Eddie forced his eyes back towards the young woman across from him. She was blinking a lot, apparently caught off guard by his candor.
He waited a moment, waiting for her to say anything. The nervous boy opened his mouth to respond, but was interrupted by the sharp pop of gunfire. Diving to the ground, Eddie counted three shots as he gripped his rifle. Snapping his head to Nicole, he crawled the short distance to come to rest at her side. "Are you ok-kay?" She gave a brief nod and murmured to the affirmative.
Reaching out, the terrified student reached out to place a hand on his companion's shoulder. He stopped, his hand hovering a moment, before pressing the offending extremity to the ground and forcing himself to his feet. "St-stay here. I'll go s-see what's happening. If I d-don't c-come b-back.... Run. Run and hide."
Not waiting for a reply, Eddie crept towards the door, knuckles showing white from his grip on the Remington. Back against the wall, the dark haired boy slowly pried the door open, peeking through small opening. No good. The sun hadn't even risen yet, as if asking for a few minutes more, before rousing itself from its sleep. Fine, then.
Opening the portal the rest of the way, the young boy cast one last glance at Nicole before quietly closing the door behind him. He hoped she would do the sensible thing and find a back door, hop out a window, disappear into the jungle. Eddie pressed the thought to the back of his mind and brought the rifle to his shoulder, picking out the sound of soft sobs from behind a cluster of foliage. The darkness was lessening, the edges of the sun drifting up from the horizon, making it easier for the boy to find the source of the noise.
The muzzle of the gun fell as Eddie found the huddled mass of a young man, weeping in the early morning jungle. "H-hey...are you ok?" He took a step closer, letting his grip on the rifle loosen. "It's ok-kay. I'm n-not gonna hurt you..." The boy's quiet, nervous voice trailed off as he squinted at the sobbing student. Blood froze, fingers locked, teeth clenched. "It's you...it's you. It's YOU!"
Hands sliding down the barrel of the rifle, Edward Sullivan held the Remington like a club, swinging the stock for Wade Wilson's head.
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler DetectiveArcher.
Everything was coming apart now. It was all tearing itself apart at the seams.
The new information that coursed through Wade's head was causing the unstable boy to break apart into small pieces and lose whatever sense of self-preservation was still coursing through his veins. There was no turning back now. He'd done some absolutely awful, horrible things, and somehow, some way, he needed to pay for what he'd done. Raising his head from his hands, Wade's thoughts quickly went to the pistol that he'd discarded on the ground.
Suicide hadn't been something that Wade had ever really thought about before, but if you really had to think about it, religious connotations aside, it was an easy way out. Sure, it didn't help your family and friends any, but if you had done things like Wade had done, suicide might have been his best option.
I don't deserve to live. Not after this. Good Lord, not after this.
So stuck in his own thoughts, Wade barely noticed when someone walked up to him. He only looked at the person with a passing notion that they might be interested in harming him. At this point, he didn't care.
When the stock of the rifle impacted upon his head, causing him to fall face-down on the dirt, Wade knew that the reckoning was indeed at hand.
And it's about goddamn time.
Putting his hand up to his head and feeling the fresh blood rolling down the side, Wade tried to blink away the haze that was forming through his vision. A head injury. That seemed appropriate. Rolling onto his back, Wade looked up at his attacker, tears again flowing from his eyes. He didn't try and strike back, didn't try and go for his gun, but rather just looked up at the boy and shook his head.
"What have I done?"
Putting his hand to his head again, Wade looked down at the blood. It almost made him feel better.
"Please, put me out of my goddamn misery! I don't deserve to live anymore! Not after what I've done, God damnit!"
Wade slumped down onto his elbows, and wiped away some of the tears.
"I'm so sorry...I never meant to do any of this..."
The new information that coursed through Wade's head was causing the unstable boy to break apart into small pieces and lose whatever sense of self-preservation was still coursing through his veins. There was no turning back now. He'd done some absolutely awful, horrible things, and somehow, some way, he needed to pay for what he'd done. Raising his head from his hands, Wade's thoughts quickly went to the pistol that he'd discarded on the ground.
Suicide hadn't been something that Wade had ever really thought about before, but if you really had to think about it, religious connotations aside, it was an easy way out. Sure, it didn't help your family and friends any, but if you had done things like Wade had done, suicide might have been his best option.
I don't deserve to live. Not after this. Good Lord, not after this.
So stuck in his own thoughts, Wade barely noticed when someone walked up to him. He only looked at the person with a passing notion that they might be interested in harming him. At this point, he didn't care.
When the stock of the rifle impacted upon his head, causing him to fall face-down on the dirt, Wade knew that the reckoning was indeed at hand.
And it's about goddamn time.
Putting his hand up to his head and feeling the fresh blood rolling down the side, Wade tried to blink away the haze that was forming through his vision. A head injury. That seemed appropriate. Rolling onto his back, Wade looked up at his attacker, tears again flowing from his eyes. He didn't try and strike back, didn't try and go for his gun, but rather just looked up at the boy and shook his head.
"What have I done?"
Putting his hand to his head again, Wade looked down at the blood. It almost made him feel better.
"Please, put me out of my goddamn misery! I don't deserve to live anymore! Not after what I've done, God damnit!"
Wade slumped down onto his elbows, and wiped away some of the tears.
"I'm so sorry...I never meant to do any of this..."
She intimidated him? That wasn't something Nicole was used to hearing anymore. She'd never thought of herself as a very intimidating person, the thought just never really occurred to her that people would see things that way. Not anymore, at least. Not after all she'd done to avert that. It just seemed...odd. Unfair, maybe. Three years spent trying to break that image people had of her, and he was still intimidated? He'd always been shy, you could probably give him a heart attack by winking at him she figured, but still.
----
"I just don't get it," Nicole said, no small amount of frustration in her tone as she sat down on Alessandra's bed. The mattress was a bit old and well used, so as her weight plopped down on it the springs let out a slightly strained creak, a noise that her friend was undoubtedly quite accustomed to by now. Hearing the door click, she looked up, only to see that Alessandra had closed the door behind them, leaning against the wall. Nicole had come over to her place from school, so neither of them had yet changed out of any of the stuff they were wearing during the rest of the day.
"Eh? Get what?" the Italian girl asked, for once not making the usual joke about Nicole being dressed more like a businesswoman than a schoolgirl. At 5'3, she was slightly skinnier than Nicole was, but still had an attractive figure. Not that either of them were complaining, of course. The amused smirk she put on was barely noticeable, but Nicole knew her well enough to pick up that she already knew what Nicole was getting at, she just wanted her friend to say so herself.
"I haven't exactly been mean to people, but it always seems like everyone's afraid to talk to me or something lately. It's like...I dunno." Nicole paused for a second, shaking her head. Alessandra just nodded, waiting for Nicole to think up what she was trying to get across. "Almost like just because I'm not willing to take being felt up like I'm some sort of blowup doll, that people see me as this unapproachable entity or something. Not even the other Student Council kids seem to want anything to do with me. I don't get it, I really don't."
The pastel coloured walls of Alessandra Canale's bedroom were always a sign of comfort to Nicole. The two girls could rely on each other for anything, it seemed, so far they'd known each other as long as they could even remember. Boy trouble, help with homework, issues with parents, if either of them needed anything they just had to call the other. They'd always been there for each other, and in some ways Nicole grew to depend on that. Sometimes all one needed was some keen insight or comforting words from the other, so as Nicole steadily started to feel like she was becoming a pariah in the school, she'd almost instantly known who to turn to. However, Alessandra's reaction wasn't what Nicole expected. The shorter girl sighed a little, pursing her lips and visibly stopping herself from rolling her hazel eyes.
"You really don't get it, do ya?" she asked Nicole, not rudely but her tone was still surprisingly harsh. "Nikki, I'm one of maybe five kids in the entire school you talk to anymore without sounding like you're gonna stab them or something! You need to chill out. Not sayin' you gotta be like me, y'know, but not everyone is the enemy! You really wanna know why people don't like talking to you?"
"Y-yeah, I do," was all Nicole managed to say in response.
"It's 'cause they're scared of ya, Nikki! Now, I know it ain't right that guys think it's alright to randomly grab your ass or try to touch your tits or whatever, but ever since you've gotten on this 'stop sexual harassment' kick it's really gotten in the way of everything else. When you're out in school and stuff, or making speeches to the Student Council? You sound like a total bitch. People feel like if they even say hello to ya, you're gonna leap for their throat, and I know you're not like that but it's really the impression you make.
When was the last time since you started this that you let yourself relax? You've been too hard on yourself and everybody else, you know that? You study, work on this fool's quest of yours, and occasionally hang out with me and the others, but that's all! People geniunely think ya don't care about anything except harassment and your own grades, and I'm sorry but you've brought it on yourself by getting so obsessed with it and treating every guy in the school like they're gonna try to rape ya or somethin'." Alessandra stopped, waiting for her words to sink in for a few seconds as she took a breath, brushing a wavy strand of her long brown hair away from her face. "Is that what you want people to think of you, Nikki?"
"No..." Nicole couldn't help but turn red with shame as Alessandra brought the truth to light. That's what it was, the truth. Uncompromising, unabridged, just cold facts. She'd thought she'd just been doing a favour for the girls of the school, that she had to focus on the important things, but she'd never realised just how cold she'd been acting towards people. She was smarter than this, how hadn't she noticed?
"Well, ya know what to do about it then. Heh, I know you have different beliefs on things, I'm not suggesting you go out now and bang the whole football team or something stupid like that," Nicole couldn't help but chuckle at this, causing her friend to smile before continuing, "but ya have to open up at least a little if you want people to even bother. We both know that you're not the ice queen people think you are, but you gotta show them that, y'know?"
Shifting a little on the bed, Nicole finally looked her friend in the eye, nodding. It made sense, when Alessandra put it that way. "Yeah, I know, thanks." she said, a smile on her face.
"Hey, even smart girls need some sense talked into them once in a while!" Alessandra winked when she said this, causing both of them to giggle a bit. "Come on, let's see if there's anything good playing at the movies or something. It'll get your mind off this."
----
Ever since then, Nicole had tried to be more outgoing, less withdrawn and cold. When things had been presented to her so bluntly, it honestly embarassed her how she'd apparently acted towards people who hadn't done anything to deserve it. She'd actually allowed herself to have fun, and it had only helped her life in high school, so how was it that Ed was still intimidated by her? Of course, the next things he said completely caught her off guard. She went almost as red as he did when he finished saying his piece, blinking repeatedly and trying to find the words for what she was thinking. She never was one to deny her attractiveness, some people actually mistook her pride in her looks for arrogance, but for someone to look at her the way he apparently did was...startling, at least. After some minutes of awkward silence, Ed looked up as if expecting a reply, and Nicole tried again.
"I...um...I really don't know what to say, I'm sorry...I mean, I really-"
She was cut off by the sound of three gunshots directly outside, eliciting a loud scream of both surprise and sheer terror from the girl as she practically jumped off the table to lay low on the ground. What was happening? Had someone found them? No, it wasn't possible, she'd closed the door! What was going on?! Someone was yelling outside. Was that...Wade? Wade Wilson? Another voice at her side called out, and she nervously looked over, only to see that Ed had crawled over to her and was asking if she was alright.
"Y-yeah, I'm fine..." she murmured, nodding a bit. Eddie moved to place a hand on her shoulder, but then stopped as she was going to ask if he'd been hurt. She didn't get a chance to ask, as he told her to stay where she was while he went out to see what was happening, and to run away and hide if he didn't come back. Not that there was exactly anywhere to run to, no back doors or anything, but she nodded anyway. He got up and walked over to the door, carefully walking outside, and she lay where she was, too afraid to move, trying to ignore the dirt from the ancient tile floor getting on her clothes or the uncomfortable feeling of her body (especially her chest) pressing against the ground. It was almost a wonder she could make herself breathe. The announcement came on, but she barely noticed it. She heard Ed and Wade yelling, and then a *CRACK!* sound, then Wade yelling again before switching to speaking softly, almost too softly to hear at all. He was...asking Eddie to kill him? What was going on? She almost wanted to force herself up and go outside, but she couldn't.
I'm...I'm just too afraid. I can't...God, why am I so useless?
----
"I just don't get it," Nicole said, no small amount of frustration in her tone as she sat down on Alessandra's bed. The mattress was a bit old and well used, so as her weight plopped down on it the springs let out a slightly strained creak, a noise that her friend was undoubtedly quite accustomed to by now. Hearing the door click, she looked up, only to see that Alessandra had closed the door behind them, leaning against the wall. Nicole had come over to her place from school, so neither of them had yet changed out of any of the stuff they were wearing during the rest of the day.
"Eh? Get what?" the Italian girl asked, for once not making the usual joke about Nicole being dressed more like a businesswoman than a schoolgirl. At 5'3, she was slightly skinnier than Nicole was, but still had an attractive figure. Not that either of them were complaining, of course. The amused smirk she put on was barely noticeable, but Nicole knew her well enough to pick up that she already knew what Nicole was getting at, she just wanted her friend to say so herself.
"I haven't exactly been mean to people, but it always seems like everyone's afraid to talk to me or something lately. It's like...I dunno." Nicole paused for a second, shaking her head. Alessandra just nodded, waiting for Nicole to think up what she was trying to get across. "Almost like just because I'm not willing to take being felt up like I'm some sort of blowup doll, that people see me as this unapproachable entity or something. Not even the other Student Council kids seem to want anything to do with me. I don't get it, I really don't."
The pastel coloured walls of Alessandra Canale's bedroom were always a sign of comfort to Nicole. The two girls could rely on each other for anything, it seemed, so far they'd known each other as long as they could even remember. Boy trouble, help with homework, issues with parents, if either of them needed anything they just had to call the other. They'd always been there for each other, and in some ways Nicole grew to depend on that. Sometimes all one needed was some keen insight or comforting words from the other, so as Nicole steadily started to feel like she was becoming a pariah in the school, she'd almost instantly known who to turn to. However, Alessandra's reaction wasn't what Nicole expected. The shorter girl sighed a little, pursing her lips and visibly stopping herself from rolling her hazel eyes.
"You really don't get it, do ya?" she asked Nicole, not rudely but her tone was still surprisingly harsh. "Nikki, I'm one of maybe five kids in the entire school you talk to anymore without sounding like you're gonna stab them or something! You need to chill out. Not sayin' you gotta be like me, y'know, but not everyone is the enemy! You really wanna know why people don't like talking to you?"
"Y-yeah, I do," was all Nicole managed to say in response.
"It's 'cause they're scared of ya, Nikki! Now, I know it ain't right that guys think it's alright to randomly grab your ass or try to touch your tits or whatever, but ever since you've gotten on this 'stop sexual harassment' kick it's really gotten in the way of everything else. When you're out in school and stuff, or making speeches to the Student Council? You sound like a total bitch. People feel like if they even say hello to ya, you're gonna leap for their throat, and I know you're not like that but it's really the impression you make.
When was the last time since you started this that you let yourself relax? You've been too hard on yourself and everybody else, you know that? You study, work on this fool's quest of yours, and occasionally hang out with me and the others, but that's all! People geniunely think ya don't care about anything except harassment and your own grades, and I'm sorry but you've brought it on yourself by getting so obsessed with it and treating every guy in the school like they're gonna try to rape ya or somethin'." Alessandra stopped, waiting for her words to sink in for a few seconds as she took a breath, brushing a wavy strand of her long brown hair away from her face. "Is that what you want people to think of you, Nikki?"
"No..." Nicole couldn't help but turn red with shame as Alessandra brought the truth to light. That's what it was, the truth. Uncompromising, unabridged, just cold facts. She'd thought she'd just been doing a favour for the girls of the school, that she had to focus on the important things, but she'd never realised just how cold she'd been acting towards people. She was smarter than this, how hadn't she noticed?
"Well, ya know what to do about it then. Heh, I know you have different beliefs on things, I'm not suggesting you go out now and bang the whole football team or something stupid like that," Nicole couldn't help but chuckle at this, causing her friend to smile before continuing, "but ya have to open up at least a little if you want people to even bother. We both know that you're not the ice queen people think you are, but you gotta show them that, y'know?"
Shifting a little on the bed, Nicole finally looked her friend in the eye, nodding. It made sense, when Alessandra put it that way. "Yeah, I know, thanks." she said, a smile on her face.
"Hey, even smart girls need some sense talked into them once in a while!" Alessandra winked when she said this, causing both of them to giggle a bit. "Come on, let's see if there's anything good playing at the movies or something. It'll get your mind off this."
----
Ever since then, Nicole had tried to be more outgoing, less withdrawn and cold. When things had been presented to her so bluntly, it honestly embarassed her how she'd apparently acted towards people who hadn't done anything to deserve it. She'd actually allowed herself to have fun, and it had only helped her life in high school, so how was it that Ed was still intimidated by her? Of course, the next things he said completely caught her off guard. She went almost as red as he did when he finished saying his piece, blinking repeatedly and trying to find the words for what she was thinking. She never was one to deny her attractiveness, some people actually mistook her pride in her looks for arrogance, but for someone to look at her the way he apparently did was...startling, at least. After some minutes of awkward silence, Ed looked up as if expecting a reply, and Nicole tried again.
"I...um...I really don't know what to say, I'm sorry...I mean, I really-"
She was cut off by the sound of three gunshots directly outside, eliciting a loud scream of both surprise and sheer terror from the girl as she practically jumped off the table to lay low on the ground. What was happening? Had someone found them? No, it wasn't possible, she'd closed the door! What was going on?! Someone was yelling outside. Was that...Wade? Wade Wilson? Another voice at her side called out, and she nervously looked over, only to see that Ed had crawled over to her and was asking if she was alright.
"Y-yeah, I'm fine..." she murmured, nodding a bit. Eddie moved to place a hand on her shoulder, but then stopped as she was going to ask if he'd been hurt. She didn't get a chance to ask, as he told her to stay where she was while he went out to see what was happening, and to run away and hide if he didn't come back. Not that there was exactly anywhere to run to, no back doors or anything, but she nodded anyway. He got up and walked over to the door, carefully walking outside, and she lay where she was, too afraid to move, trying to ignore the dirt from the ancient tile floor getting on her clothes or the uncomfortable feeling of her body (especially her chest) pressing against the ground. It was almost a wonder she could make herself breathe. The announcement came on, but she barely noticed it. She heard Ed and Wade yelling, and then a *CRACK!* sound, then Wade yelling again before switching to speaking softly, almost too softly to hear at all. He was...asking Eddie to kill him? What was going on? She almost wanted to force herself up and go outside, but she couldn't.
I'm...I'm just too afraid. I can't...God, why am I so useless?
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the former handler Slayer.